


.malaria

by elderxprice



Series: prompt fills [1]
Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 12:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderxprice/pseuds/elderxprice
Summary: (drabble) prompt fill: caring for the other when sick





	

“What if it’s Malaria?”

Elder McKinley kneels beside Elder Price’s bed, rummaging through a cracked plastic bin labeled **first aid**. Its contents have grown considerably  _less_  since he first arrived six months ago, thanks to the makeshift clinic they hold every Sunday after church. It’s nothing remarkable –  just Elder Cunningham and Elder Price handing out Tylenol and Band-Aids behind the mission hut – but the village has started to grow dependent and that _worries_ him; because once they leave, so does the clinic, and  _then_  what will they do?

“I don’t have malaria.” Elder Price rolls onto his back, scrubbing a hand over his face in a fruitless attempt to keep the sweat from his eyes. “I have a cold,” he continues; “— obviously.”

“You don’t know that.” Elder McKinley turns his attention back to the bin, stacking everything that  _isn’t_  what he’s looking for on the ground beside him.

“I  _do_  know that,” Elder Price protests, propping himself up on his elbows. He closes his eyes as the room starts to spin; “I had to take —“

“Medicine before you left, I know.” Elder McKinley pauses, and then grins once he finds what he’s looking for. “So did I; so did  **everyone**. But we’re supposed to  _keep_  taking it, and, well — we know what happened to your and Elder Cunningham’s luggage.”

“Still doesn’t mean I have malaria.” Elder Price falls back upon the bed, slowly turning his head to watch as Elder McKinley opens a small, white box.

“Well, we’ll know for sure in five to ten minutes. Give me your hand”  

But Elder Price hesitates, drawing his hands closer towards himself. “ — what if I have malaria?”

“I thought you only had a cold?” Elder McKinley tries to hide his smirk as he wipes Kevin’s finger with an alcohol pad, and then pricks it with the tip of a needle.

“Well, now I’m not so sure.” Elder Price peers over at the rapid diagnostic test, scowling as Elder McKinley pulls it from his line of sight.

“A watched pot never boils, Kevin.”  Elder McKinley tuts, setting the test on the floor, before reaching to smooth back Kevin’s bangs.

“Kevin, huh?” And then he smiles, even though every single muscle in his body hurts. “Thought that was _inappropriate_.” Kevin uses finger quotes, earning him a finger-flick to the tip of his nose.

“Yes, well.” Elder McKinley squares his shoulders, staring at everything in the room that _isn’t_ Kevin. “— what if it’s malaria?”

“What if it is?” Kevin rolls onto his side, reaching out for Elder McKinley’s tie. He pulls the other boy closer. “What if I have malaria, **Connor**?”

“You don’t.” Connor’s hands settle in his lap. Kevin can see that he’s wringing them together.  

“But what if I do? We’re a thousand miles away from any _good_ hospital. No offense to Gotswana, but.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Connor offers, finally meeting Kevin’s gaze. “ _If_ you have malaria.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I guess I’ll still take care of you, since Elder Cunningham won’t.” Connor sighs, closing his eyes as Kevin pulls him even closer. “He’s scared of you, you know. Apparently our Prophet is a bit of a hypochondriac.”

“Good.”

“How is that _good_?” Connor cracks an eye open, frowning as Kevin grins impishly.  “Elder Davis and Church won’t stop complaining, since he refuses to leave their room. Apparently he snores something _awful_ ,” he adds, reaching blindly for the test. “And moans about Sister Hatimbi in his sleep.”

Kevin laughs; “He does. It’s kind of cute in a weird way. He really likes her.”

“Yes, well.”

“Well?” Kevin pulls Connor so close their noses are nearly touching; he can feel the tremor of warm breath on his lips.

Connor blinks. “Well, what?”

“Do I have malaria?”

“Oh.” Connor clears his throat, and then sets the test on the edge of Kevin’s bed. His hands are shaking, violently as they turn it over. He pulls away from Kevin just enough to _look_. “No.”

 Kevin grins triumphantly; “Told you it was only a cold.”

“Malaria isn’t catching, you know.” Connor moves to set the test on Kevin’s nightstand. “I wouldn’t catch it if I kissed you; but I _will_ catch a cold.”

Kevin snorts, pulling the scratchy blanket up to his chin. It’s kind of weird to be freezing in Uganda; he thinks he’d hate it more, if he wasn’t so darn hot the rest of the time. “So now you _wish_ I had malaria?”

“What? No! I never said that. Elder Price, I —-“

Kevin cuts him off with a kiss; not his worst, not his best. His lips are chapped, and his mouth is dry, and he coughs into Connor’s face, a bit; but — it’s enough. 

“Don’t worry, Elder McKinley,” he says, once they’ve finally pulled apart. “If you catch my cold, I’ll take care of you.”

Connor looks doubtful. The last time Elder Cunningham was sick, Kevin threw bottles of water and Tylenol into the room while holding his breath, so he wouldn’t have to physically go in there. “Promise?”  


Kevin yawns, pulling Connor up onto his bed. The frame groans in protest beneath the added weight;“ — promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> usually, I hc Kevin as the hypochondriac, but this idea came to me and I just had to write it :)


End file.
